Novel & Cerita Trap Breeding

Chinyere asked herself. "Does that mean he didn't rape you only once?" Chinyere asked. Tina was the one who looked away this time, "How do you think Solomon was conceived. He raped me because he wanted a son and I kept resisting him. The first time was the night after our wedding day."

Or that’s what it felt like to him. “You can’t be serious. They are trying to limit who can reproduce with who. All that purity of race stuff. Any gene pool collapses after a while.” This was something Becky learned about when she was studying about purebreds and the process of breeding. Who didn’t know about the Hapsburg chin or the Russian royal family anemia?

She saw her own kidnapping in the mountain listed as "Bonding Phase IV: The Lethal Bond Induction." Every moment of their lives—the trauma, the passion, the "accidental" meetings, the fires Dante had set to find her—had been predicted. They weren't rebels. They were the apex of a century-long breeding program designed to produce a pair capable of ruling the next era of the Trust.

Cade's hand had moved to my lower back without him seeming to notice he'd done it. "The trafficking," I said, keeping my voice level with effort. "Where are these people being sent? The wolves. The children." "Everywhere." His answer was simple. Immediate. Unbothered in a way that made my stomach turn. "How long has this been going on?" "Twenty-five, thirty years at minimum." He said it the way someone might discuss weather patterns. Distant. Statistical. "In the beginning it was controlled — one or two wolves placed with select families. Bloodline seeding. They wanted to see if the traits would hold, if the Destroyer gene could be reliably passed down." Something crossed his face that might

A very specific kind of breeder, at that. Picking her up had given me the impression that her pack's tradition of taking care of their breeders either wasn't being followed or they simply had no clue how to. Which had struck me, and Wren, as odd. Why in the world would they raise a breeder they had no intention of caring for? A cash grab? Something else? It seems like too much of a long ploy to risk raising a breeder in the hope that another pack will eventually be in the market for one. Our fertility rates have been going up for decades, leading to the inevitable extinction of the need for someone to supplement that.

His last sentence made my eyes widened. Only one woman for thousands of men? That was crazy. Hadn't she thought of running away? “The thing is, she wasn't forced. She belonged to a special bloodline of breeders who could give birth to twenty pups, at once. And she doesn't necessarily mate with all the men, a competition is held between about ten of them divided into two groups. The group that wins gets to mate with her.” He dropped another bomb.

"No man can make a wolf." Halvard was quiet a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was slow and measured. "You know breeding. What a man breeds, he breeds for a purpose. For some trait or quality. If a farmer breeds chickens, he does not want birds with broken legs. If a huntsman breeds dogs, he does not want hounds who cannot chase." "No, he does not," I said. My eyes were still on the floor. I did not want to hear the rest and I could not stop him saying it.

“Four? That is rare… How?” The young male next to him bows hesitantly. “Alpha, Sir. It was an experiment that Alpha Valentino was conducting. He was trying to get as many pups as he could all around the same age, without using too many of his breeding females. He wasn’t looking to sell them, but to train them. He chose three of his Alpha females gave them the drug to force their heat and then set up for six full-blooded Alphas, two for each female to see to their needs and then once the first heat passed with those two Alphas he then gave them a 24hour break before giving them the drug again forcing a second heat and then allowed the Alphas to pair up and pick which one they wanted next. The

I was in a warehouse of some kind, propped up uncomfortably on a wooden chair. My hands and legs had been chained together by my captors, and after a while I could make out the voices of several people who were speaking nearby. “The bitch is pregnant,” Cole crowed, sounding like he had won a lottery as he emphasized each word. “With her looks we should fetch a pretty penny if we sell her as a Breeder.” Breeder. Just the word alone made my heart plummet into my stomach and dive up again. The practice of keeping shewolves to serve mateless males for the purpose of reproduction had been outlawed centuries ago, but every so often whispers of it spread before quickly getting hushed down.

It was warm and thick, making her skin crawl. “No.” “Check her for the item.” Hands began to pat down her sides, roughly grabbing and pulling her limbs aside before fumbling beneath her torn cloak, then shirt. They groped her non-sexually for no one desired an Omega and they were perhaps the least sexually assaulted species in the wolf kingdom. Who would want to breed a population loathed by many, if not all? “Nothing,” muttered one of them and their hands left her briskly.